The Isle of the Dead
The Isle of the Dead The Swiss painter Arnold Böcklin painted a series of pictures called The Isle of the Dead, which have fascinated subsequent generations of artists and musicians.
Reading The Odyssey, we couldn’t help but be reminded of Odysseus’ visit to the Underworld to consult with the blind seer Tiresias.
This short book is a patchwork of all our pieces of writing, describing what it might have been like for Odysseus to land on this island and take his first steps.
Suddenly we saw a shape through the fog. We were approaching a mysterious island. It was looming closer with every painful turn of the oar. It was cheerless and gloomy. It looked like it was reaching out to give us a hug. A freaky hug! In the middle there were some cypress trees. They were dark too. It didn’t look like a great place to be. The cypress trees carried on endlessly, as far as the eye could see. All the rocks were jagged like they had been a castle but weren’t any more. There seemed to be a mysterious face carved into the rock.
It was a truly frightening island. My men and I didn’t want to go there and we didn’t know what would happen if we did. Should we do something with the livestock, or leave them in the boat? I had a big feeling that this island was the one that Circe told us about. The land of the… I couldn’t remember the rest, but I knew that it started with a d… From behind the trees there was a dark shadow.
After we had beached the boat and tied it up, we carefully climbed out and looked around. Stepping out into the land, I felt a sort of strange feeling in my body. It felt like a magic island. The shadow we had seen disappeared among the sombre trees. In the darkness we saw a skull attached to the wall. We wondered what was behind those trees. All I knew was that it felt funereal, as if life had once been here but gradually died away. I
fingered the rocky walls surrounding us, cold to the touch. There was a gust of wind; there was a smell of decay. I had a feeling that wherever we were, it couldn’t be good. The strange arches, the mysteriousness of what was behind them: this island was dead, no sound, no people. A sudden terrible thought passed through my head: Dead. Then I remembered the place Circe had said: Land of the Dead!
I prayed to the goddess Athena, but she did not appear. I wondered if the gods were betraying me and did not want to give me any more help. I pondered on what could be behind these giant trees. Could they be hiding something? We stood and stared for a long time. I was thinking of Penelope. Would we ever get back to Ithaca? Would it only be when we were old and grey? Or would we perhaps never return? I thought of Penelope and Telemachus on their own. No king for Ithaca. Telemachus with no father. My men and I sheepishly took a look, I knew what to expect now.
By: Florian, Harry, Anna, Max, Jose, Jessica, Millie, Ellie, Ella-May, Sophie, Amandine and William